


mess you up

by goldtitainium



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Firefighter Steve Rogers, Fluff, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 14:25:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17685173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldtitainium/pseuds/goldtitainium
Summary: detective/firefighter auIt's not as complicated as Tony though it was.





	mess you up

**Author's Note:**

> completely unbeta'd  
> i hope you enjoy!!

“Pep. Pep, I can’t do it, he’s too hot,” Tony muttered, eyes glued to Steve, continuing his Romeo and Juliet forbidden-romance, epic love story in his head. He supposed, halfway through choreographing a fight scene between Steve’s Chief and his Captain in his head, that the was being slightly, maybe, too dramatic. Not about Steve being too hot, because that man managed to look good no matter what. Literally no matter what - Tony had once seen him with most of his clothes burnt off, running on 5 hours sleep over three days, barely standing and half an eyebrow singed off, and he still looked fucking _edible_. 

It hadn’t helped that he decided to notch his eyebrow after it grew back and he drove a motorbike and he wore a leather jacket. _Fuck, he was so, so hot._

But that wasn’t why Tony was being dramatic - the ‘forbidden’ part of their romance was that Steve worked for the FDNY and Tony worked for the NYPD. It wasn’t _legally_ forbidden, but he would be castrated socially if he admitted to ~~having a crush on~~ _being vaguely attracted to his face, body and personality_. Kinda. Not really. No-one cared.

Tony had hoped that it would be basically career suicide to date someone from the fire department so he’d never have to actually ask him out, but, unfortunately not. Which meant that he had no reason to not ask him out. 

It would be very, very different if Tony just wanted to have sex with him - he would flirt, back off if he wasn't interested, if he was - go to his place, leave before the sun came up and then never see him again, but Tony was fucking head-over-heels for this man.

They’d met maybe six months ago on an arson case and, ok, they had a rocky start, but as soon as they stopped being prinks (courtesy of Barnes and Nat) to each other, they actually got along, solved the case (jealous pizzeria owner - surprisingly rare), exchanged numbers and somehow became ridiculously close friends very quickly and then becoming something a little more. 

Over the last couple months Tony had learnt that Steve was not only just hot (genetics) and brave (his job) but he was kind and funny and stupidly stubborn and ridiculously passionate about everything he believed in, the important stuff (the horse in the national hospital) and things that, ultimately didn’t matter (baseball), and he was an _artist_.  
The last one shouldn’t matter as much but last month, for Tony’s birthday, he’d given him a painting of Dum-E that somehow reminded him of Wall-E enough to make his eyes water slightly (he swore someone was cutting onions somewhere, fucking Ramsay). He loved him so fucking much.

To his shock, according to Barnes, via Nat, Steve was equally as head-over-heels for him, but, according to Barnes (via Instagram DM) he was ‘too chicken-shit to do anything about it’ and he has ‘a plethora of other insecurities’ concerning Tony actually liking him back and first of all; Tony was surprised that Barnes knew long words - the mini-Steve, that had taken residence inside his head around February, scolded him for being prejudiced against firemen but logically, Tony knew that he would call Barnes an idiot if he was an astronaut or an assassin, so _shush_ , mini-Steve.

All of this brought him here - at some dumb function the district threw every year, he knew he shouldn’t call it dumb (thank you mini-Steve), it was for charity after all, but, _but_ , it was June in Brooklyn, inside. Which meant that Steve wasn’t wearing a jacket and he had his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, he somehow didn’t understand that he was beefed as hell and over six foot and not the tiny bean-pole thing he was in highschool (Steve lost a bet, his mom was ready and willing to embarrass him) or someone forgot to tell him because his shirts were always at least a size too small, usually two, and looked pretty much painted on. Tony wanted to tear them off his ridiculously toned… everything.

The blue dress shirt he was wearing was no exception, Tony watched as he shifted his stance and crossed his arms and those seams were the strongest thing in existence, _damn._  
It did not help whatsoever that over the course of the night he’d loosened his tie and his hair had gotten slightly messed up - he was borderline debauched and it made Tony want to shove him against the wall and kiss him until he was completely debauched and fucking _wrecked_.

Steve caught his gaze and waved at him - _stupid fucking adorable golden retriever man_ \- and _oh shit_ made his way over.  
Tony turned to Pepper for help but she just patted his arm, wished him good luck and walked away.

“Hey Tony,” Steve greeted, smiling, tugging at his collar, “you, uh, clean up nice,” he stuttered, eyes sweeping over Tony. How on earth he managed to be breathtakingly beautiful and _hot_ , and a stuttering mess at the same time was beyond him in so many ways.  
Tony grinned back at him and said, softer than he meant to, “Not to bad yourself, Rogers.”

“I thought we were on first-name basis, Stark,” Steve teased, after clearing his throat and pushing his sleeves up and _oh wow_ Steve smelled good, and they were incredibly close, have his eyes always been so blue and bright?

_Fuck it._

Tony grabbed Steve’s hand and tugged him outside, the cool air rushing around his red ears, the brightest stars just about coming out, the soundscape of the city echoing around them and the chatter of people inside floating out but all Tony could focus on was Steve.

“Steve, stop me if you want, but, I like you, in more than a friendly way and I-mmf-” Steve never got to hear the rest of his sentence because he pushed him against the wall and kissing him, trying to pour every ounce of emotion he felt towards him into every swipe of his tongue, arms coming to wrap around Tony’s waist. 

Tony reciprocated, pushing up into the kiss, tangling his hands around his neck and raking the tips of his fingers in his hair.  
They were both panting when they pulled away, a light flush on both of their cheeks.

“Your place?” Tony asked, still trying to catch his breath, not at all helped by Steve who was kissing very distractingly down his neck.  
“Your place is closer,” he mumbled, softly biting his earlobe. Tony could feel that smug fucker smiling against his skin when he gasped and his hips bucked against Steve’s involuntarily.  
Yeah, Tony would not have made it back to Steve’s place.

“You gonna - _fuck_ \- let me go so I can drive us to mine?” Tony asked as Steve found out all the sensitive spots of his neck. He drew him in for another kiss, this time Tony was the one in charge, experimentally tugging on Steve’s hair and smiling as he gasped and shifted impossibly closer to him - he’d always suspected that he was a kinky motherfucker.

When they pulled away, Steve looked slightly dazed and his pupils were huge - the science and logic part of Tony’s brain told him that it was because they were in the dark but the slightly possessive side told him that Steve was like that because of _him_.  
Tony liked that theory more.

“Nah,” Steve said, smirking and then generally made life difficult for him by kissing him.  
It wasn’t that difficult. Tony kinda liked it. (He liked it a lot.) ((He liked Steve a lot.))

He lied. Steve Rogers was _evil_. Sexy, hot and fucking adorable, but _evil_.  
Steve had caught on - the intuitive fellow - that Tony liked the debauched, dishevelled look on him and spent the entire car ride back messing himself up. 

“Stop it,” Tony saud, eyes fixated on the road - like a good driver - very obviously Not Watching Steve fiddle with his sleeves, mess with his hair and tug on his tie.

“Stop what?” he asked, fairly innocently.

“Nice try, Rogers, your homeless-puppy-dog look stopped working a long time ago,” Tony said (it definitely hadn’t), thankful to have a slight upper-hand in the situation.

“Back to last name basis?” Steve teased as Tony pulled into his driveway. 

Tony harrumphed and reached over the console to completely untie Steve’s tie and smoother it out over his chest, Steve smiled softly at him and kissed the corner of his mouth sweetly.  
Tony held his gaze for a couple seconds and then grabbed the ends of his tie and pulled him in for a harsh, bruising kiss, tongue sweeping into his mouth. 

When they pulled away, Steve was breathing heavily, breath blowing over Tony’s lips, his irises were barely-there blue slivers, his lips were bitten red-pink and his hair was so, so messed up, flopping all over his face at the front and in ridiculous spikes at the back. 

Steve blinked at him, dazed, “Fuck me,” he muttered, fingers flitting over Tony’s hips, slipping under his shirt.

“That’s the plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! <33  
> (there might be more...........we'll see)  
> any/all comments and kudos are greatly appreciated  
> tumblr: nohalfway


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